The Mountain and Forest of One and All
by Patterns-Unseen
Summary: A young dwarf/human meets with our merry band on their journey up to Erebor. She seeks refuge in her well earned companions and new life she builds from ashes of what was left to her. Rated M for violent scenes
1. Chapter 1

*****Author Note:** This started as an exercise in Character Development, but when it reached the length of half of the original novel, I thought I might as well share it, otherwise what use is the work and the critique process? Most of this came from epic dreams I had about an OC working its way into both the films and the book. It is an epic tale, mostly devoid of women, and Tolkien's original women characters were strong for such small roles, but I wanted an element of length given to my character, not only so I could draw her out and test my abilities, but also so I could maybe add a little feminine touch. The plot may not be much, but I am welcome to any and all constructive criticism, so please, feel free to write to me about my work. That's the only way to get better. Yours Truly, Patterns-Unseen**.*****

The sun was setting as Lord Elrond fed his guests, each of them whispering as they lifted their lettuce leaves in confusion. He chuckled to himself, he knew the tendencies of dwarves was to eat copious amounts of meat and ale but he suffered to let them try elfish cuisine. The dwarf king, would be king, or what will you; held his composure more than most, his breeding shining through the rest. He was majestic, in a dwarf way; proud, forceful, commanding but sincere. A set of footsteps along with arguing voices unsettled Lord Elrond from his observations of the table.

A pale head rose above the steps and a few moments later, a smaller, earthier head extended past. 'This meeting may not go well.' Thought Lord Elrond to himself. The table was still preoccupied with their meal at hand when the woman and the elf reached the top of the stairs. She was holding a bow, split in two, still attached by the drawstring. She seemed to be relating a story to the elf and it was becoming quite heated. Her eyes met Elrond's and she smiled. "Ah, my lord, please tell me you saw my bow split today on the field?" she looked at him straightforward. The moment her voice entered the room, the whole table went quiet. Gandalf turned around and gave her a small smile, and she did the same; she knew he was coming.

The dwarves stared at her, how unusual it was for a dwarf to be calling an elf "my lord" and she was odd to look at as well. She had no beard on her face, like most dwarfish women, and she was slender, not as slender as the elves, but not as full in frame as a dwarf woman would be. Kili and Fili leaned back in their chairs to get a better look, and immediately Kili couldn't tear his eyes away. She wore plain clothing, although she wore men's pants, and boots that were fashioned by elves, her dark shirt was of dwarfish variety and she wore over top of it a leather vest with a simple decal along the shoulder to the waist. Most dwarves wore their hair and beards in braids, usually in multiples, but her hair was only pulled back into a single braid from the top of her forehead, to the middle of her back. Her face was pale, but full of life, and joy.

"Asta?" a meager voice from the very end of the table broke through the silence. Her bow hit the ground when she saw him, "Bilbo…" it had been many years since they last saw each other, and they had both grown up, so it was difficult to determine if the hobbit before her really was the hobbit she played with as a child.

"Asta!" he slid from his chair, his hand following the back, "it is you!" Before Bilbo could say anything more she had her arms around his neck.

"You haven't answered my letters in so long, I thought something had happened to you. But it seems you are on a journey, what in Middle Earth got you to leave Bag End?"

"Well Gandalf showed up at my house and then later invited a band of dwarves over to my home, they ate my food and—" but it was too late, she had seen him.

He was all you would imagine a King to be. He looked like he had seen more years than she had, and his age gave a sense of wisdom. His face was not as covered by beard than some at the table, but his hair was thick and had silver streaks running through it. His eyes were blue and bold, they questioned nothing, and only knew answers. He looked at her, as she looked at him and for a few moments they stared, before Bilbo interjected.

"Asta, this is-"

"I know who he is." She scanned the rest of the table before saying, "My, what prestigious guests we have to-day." And with a graceful bow and a dry voice, "It is a great honor to be in the presence of Thorin, son of Thrain; King Under the Mountain."

When she lifted her head he merely nodded, then she turned to the dwarf next to him, "Lord Balin, your beard is much more white than I remember it, but you look well." She gave a low nod to Balin who looked confused.

"Forgive me lady, but I'm afraid I don't remember meeting at all."

"You wouldn't, I suppose, as your beard got whiter, I grew from the age of six. It has been many years since my pilgrimage to the great halls of Erebor." Her demeanor changed now and she grew rather pretentious, "Perhaps we can talk of my visit sometime, I'm sure you would love to relive the tale."

"I'm sure I would enjoy that very much." He managed a small smile that was polite. Before Asta could say another thing to raise tensions, Elrond asked her, "Asta, what is this about someone snapping your bow?" He had been talking to the other elf.

"Well, my lord, Endras here, believes it was snapped in—unnatural ways; and he would try to convince you of it, but it is in fact due to my lack of skill in bow making. It snapped today while we were with the orcs."

Elrond looked her over, she didn't seem either rough or hurt, nor did she seem concerned. But he knew she was hiding something, and so he would keep her close, for now. "Very well, you should make a new one soon. As soon as can be."

"Yes, Lord Elrond, I have one in the making presently."

Endras was trying his best to conceal his anger at being set aside, but a great horn blew and they air grew stiff. Asta, Elrond and Endras's faces grew stern and Lord Elrond nodded at Endras, who gave a curt bow and then was down the steps. Asta began after him when Elrond said, "Not you."

This did not please Asta, and she was rather shocked, "Not me, my Lord? Have I done something to offend you? Or perhaps am I not preforming adequately?" a little doubt in her voice and a little hurt in her eyes.

"Not at all, I want you to take care of our guests this evening." And he re-seated himself as the disbelief on her face emerged.

"Lord Elrond, I –" she rubbed her temples and heaved air out of her chest, "I- I have other duties to attend tonight."

She was upset with him, and he knew it, he wasn't ignoring it, "I will pass them to another. Don't worry about your watch duty just concern yourself with the comfort-," and he leaned forward to look into her eyes "and happiness of our guests."

"May I ask why me, my lord?" her eyes were unwavering, "I know you are capable of ensuring everything for our guests and besides, isn't it good to be among other dwarves every once in a while?"

"Yes, my lord." She gave him a nod and then turned to Thorin, her eyes intense and enduring, "When the dwarfish Masters have finished, and are in need of my service, send for me." And with that she abruptly turned on her heels and marched out of the dining hall.

"Well that was bizarre." Stated Fili, before returning to his plate. Thorin thought the same thing, and wanted to know more about the dwarf in the service of the elf.

"Wait, how do you know her?" Kili turned to Bilbo who was in the middle of taking a bite of food, setting it down he looked at his plate, "When…" then he stopped. Bilbo reflected on his response, which puzzled his companions greatly. When he did look up at Kili again he was overcome with sadness, "She lived with me, when we were young."

Speculation broke out over the table and it carried on to a point when Gandalf looked at them and with that one glance, the conversation switched to the architecture of the elven city.

She didn't hate them, Bilbo knew it, Gandalf knew it, and she knew it. Being faced with your past, when it is unpleasant is never easy and for Asta she finally had a moment to deal with it. She sat in the dark of her room contemplating how she was going to face them. Asta had forgiven all transgressions by Thorin's grandfather Thror, his decisions had given her life but now she had a choice to make which would throw her into the hands of the very grandson of the man who granted her that. As night came, and the lamps lit, she made her decision.

Now, dwarves need a great amount of food to sustain themselves, so needless to say the dwarves were cooking themselves some tasty morsels when Asta found them. She was carrying boughs to make a new bow with and a pheasant she caught in the courtyard. Bombur had just broken the table he was sitting on and a great deal of laughter burst from the group. What bliss they had; excellent companionship, a journey to grow on and friendships to foster and keep. It was Bilbo who saw her first and he grinned in his hobbit way when one was expecting company. He set his pipe down and went to help her with her load.

"I didn't think you would come unless I told them to grab you from whatever crevice you were hiding in." He looked up at her from under his eyes with a mischief that calmed her greatly.

"I should do my duty and spend time with dwarves as Lord Elrond suggests." She said as she avoided his gaze, a smile appearing on her face as well. When Bilbo set her things down next to Kili she was a little unsettled but something in the way he smirked told her it was for her own good.

"Good Evening, Master Dwarves." She looked around them, and then was very ashamed. She had broken the merriment, and they were staring at her again, but this time expectantly. Thorin stood in a doorway and for a moment she caught his eye then quickly moved along. She recognized some of them from stories and histories, but there were some who were unfamiliar to her. Even though it felt unbelievably unnerving, she began to make her apology.

She bowed, deeply, allowing her braid to fall off her shoulders. The red in her face was beginning to show and she didn't want them to see.

"I am very embarrassed by my behavior earlier, I let my emotions get ahead of me and my anger directed my actions. I am most humbly remorseful." With this she held out the bird, with her head still bowed, "If you would like it, I have brought a pheasant, I know it is not dwarfish nature to eat such delicate foods such as elfish cuisine." She did not raise her head but she did open her eyes. She began to look at the ground and waited for someone to speak or rustle or cough or anything really. The thought of making a fool of herself again was unbearable, but she stood firm, holding out this miniscule bird carcass, waiting for some form of acknowledgement. A shadow blocked out the candle light in front of her and so she decided to look up. One of the more portly dwarves stood before her. He had a thick round beard but past it she could see a smile and he took the pheasant from her with a short nod. She nodded slightly back and smiled gratefully at him before he turned to the fire they were cooking at. When she peered at the others they were smiling back, most of them anyways. A sweet smell mixed with smoke broke through the aromas of food that danced through the room.

"Bilbo, is that, Shire pipe weed?" she asked

"Yes, of course, finest weed in the south farthing." His pride blew his chest out and he smoked a ring to show his experience.

"Well do you mind, old friend, if I snatch a bit off you?"

Bilbo choked as she pulled a small pipe from a leather pouch on her left hip. "It is no good for women!" he said sternly with a very serious scowl on his face.

"And what of old friends? Can they not share a little smoke now and then? Reminisce of days gone?" the dwarves had decided to continue as they were before Asta had arrived, while she and Bilbo conversed on the window.

"Perhaps, but only between men! How ever are you to be married with manners like smoking?

"Oh Bilbo," she rested her elbow on the window sill and bent down to rest her head on her hand, "Good, sweet Bilbo, I gave up on the notion of marriage many years ago." When he looked at her she seemed lost in a place that wasn't where he was, and she was so lost, that her face had totally relaxed and her eyes hazy; she meant it. So he took the pipe from her, which brought her back to him, and she gave him the same look she did when they were little, that look of gratefulness that always made him feel glad to have met her.

"You shouldn't give up hope." Bilbo said sadly.

"Never you mind, let us smoke together; if only for one night." They touched the bowl of their pipes and when she inhaled, exuding a great cloud of smoke, he knew it was not her first time. "Finest weed in the south farthing…" she said from behind her pipe.

A little scream came from down the hall and a small elf girl ran from around the corner, and she stopped to stare at the group, then upon hearing her pursuer she hid behind Kili with an "Shhhh!" up at him. Endras came stomping from the next corridor yelling, "AH! Where did my little meal go? I, the great Goblin King, love to eat elfish ladies, especially little girls!" His hands were gnarled and his face contorted when he noticed the dwarves, he smiled at them, and then continued the charade. "Have any of you dwarves seen my delicious meal?" They just gawked at him like he was mad, but Asta stood out from the window, "No! Great Goblin King, we have seen no meals here!" she spoke loudly so the girl could hear.

"Perhaps she moved down the hall, for your help dwarf, I'll spare your life." And he hobbled down the hallway as a little voice asked Kili, "Is he gone?" and Kili who smirked at her, "Yes, he's gone." She let out a loud giggle and ran to Asta's legs.

"Asta! Asta! I've outsmarted the Goblin King!"

"I saw! Good job! Was he ever going to catch such a clever girl?" and Asta picked her up and twirled her in the air.

"Not me!" they rubbed noses affectionately then she put her down and it was only a second before…

"ARRRGHHH!" out popped Endras who pretended to eat her stomach while she squealed, giggled, and squirmed. Once he had finished "devouring" her, he sat cross-legged and set her in his lap. "Now, my Lady, you promised if I caught you, you would go to bed."

"But I don't want to!" and she broke free of him and ran to Asta, who sat with the child in her lap and said to her, "Young ladies always go to bed on time, so they have their strength to face the Goblin King another day." So with that the child consented but before she left she asked,

"Have these dwarves come to marry you Asta?"

This took Asta by surprise, but she answered, "No, my lady"

"Why not? Are they not pretty enough?"

Asta giggled, "No that's not it, they are all very handsome."

"Even that one?" she pointed at Bombur.

"Of course! Master Bombur is a most excellent warrior; he fights with his weight to his advantage. He would make a fine husband."

"Sorry, Master Bombur." The child sheepishly hid behind long lashes, but Bombur just nodded gladly.

"Then, are you not pretty enough?" And before Asta could answer, the child had turned to look at the dwarves, and Kili spoke up.

"She is very beautiful, child." Fili looked at his brother oddly, like he had said something strange, but the others expressions did not change.

"Then why?" frustration was beginning to surface in her. Asta looked down at the child so that she had to look all the way up at her. She took the girl's hands in her own and said, "Love is not something you see, it is something you feel. You do not love someone just because they are beautiful. You love them for who they are, on the inside."

The girl looked at her feet and thought very hard, "Than is there something wrong with your insides?"

Endras was immediately on his feet and said "You mustn't ask such things!" and he came to take her, but Asta motioned for him to stop. "Yes child. People don't like who I am inside, more so they don't like the blood that flows in my veins. So I don't imagine I will ever get married." Asta grew solemn now.

"You won't have children? A family?" the child's eyes growing large and desperation emerged from them.

"No, my Lady."

"What about a home? Is this your home now?"

"No." her voice was barely a whisper now.

"But you don't have to leave, you can stay; I will keep you Asta!" and tears began to stream down the child's face.

"Ohhh shhhh now. Stop your crying. It will be all right. I am happy here, and I will always come to visit if I go away. Now, off to bed."

"I'm sorry Asta", and Endras took her to bed.

It was Ori who spoke next, "What don't people like about your blood, my lady?"

"Just Asta is fine. Lord Balin, would you like to hear the tale of my journey to Erebor now? I think it should answer most questions."

Balin nodded with courtesy, telling her to begin.

She turned to face them, and sitting like she did with the girl, she began, "They tell me I look like my mother, although this hair must be my father's, as my mother's was raven black. But I will never know, because I never knew him. My mother had a sweetly face, to match her personality, she was a songstress and one day we traveled to the great city of Erebor to meet King Thror. The halls were lit by the bright torches that day, the grey stone shone in the light. I was only six years old and I still remember every detail. We entered the hall and walked up the steps, the King sat in his great throne, and above his head was a dark and beautiful stone. Beside him stood Lord Balin and the King's own son, Thrain, hair dark as night and he stood proud. We had come to seek sanctuary; we had many troubles along our way and had a hard time settling down in one place.

"My mother pleaded with the King who denied her request and finally she said to him, 'This child may be mine, but she is also of dwarvish blood, her father is a noble of Erebor!' The King took one look at me and stood abruptly, "Get this filth out of my kingdom!" And that is when you, Lord Balin, told the guards to take myself and my mother out. She still pleaded, 'If not the both of us, at least deliver the child to her father! Please your majesty! 'OUT, OUT! I will not have an elf of any manner of birth—"

"YOU!" Balin's eyes had turned to anger, confusion and fear. "You're the filthy—" he stopped himself, lowering his head, but not his eyes. The company moved between the two of them, anxious and waiting for some sign.

"Do you really believe, Lord Balin, that in all my years of living, the worst thing I have heard is 'filthy mixed blood'?" she looked at him, not with hate, not with malice, but compassion and sympathy. "I have endured worse things than name calling. Shall I continue?" she did not wait for permission. "Needless to say, we were thrown out, banished, abandoned. It's not as if the King hated elves yet, he just didn't want them in his kingdom. We searched for a few months then found a small village beyond Esgaroth and we settled there; for a few years."

When she looked around the room it was obvious their sentiment, "You know, my mother was mostly human. Her father and mother were human; it was her great grandmother who was an elf. But regardless, now the dwarves despise the elves and the mere thought of a union of the two is atrocious. I learned of the cruelty of man a long time ago and the elves are the only ones who seem to like me enough to keep me around."

She finished the pipe and Ori looked at the ground, "I'm sorry."

"Why my Lord…?"

"Ori."

"Why Lord Ori? Although I am not welcome among most, the elves will take me in. I've even managed to make a few friends along the way. Too I gained something from my great, great grandmother." Asta stood now, and moved to the center of the group, "I have been given the power of foresight. Is there a Master Gloin, among you?

Gloin was bulky, not rotund, but well built and when he stood up he towered over Asta. "I am Gloin."

She turned to him and grew so joyous that he was taken aback, "I have seen a portion of your future, Master Gloin, and if you wish to hear it, I will give you some advice. But you must be certain that you want to hear it." She did not hesitate to look at him in the eyes. He was strong, middle aged and had fiery red hair. He pondered for a bit then nodded. "I will hear it."

The smile on Asta's face grew so it reached across her face. "Your story, Master Gloin, will be great. The story of the dwarves who attempted to save Erebor will be in songs and told for generations. There will even be a book written."

"You say, 'Attempt'…" Master Balin chimed in.

"Yes, attempt. The future has many paths and at the time of my vision it was still uncertain that you would succeed. That may have changed by now." She raked her eyes over Thorin's face, in which his eyes narrowed and he knew that this was also for him to hear and know.

"Yes your story will be remembered for a long time, but will eventually fade." A murmur escaped across the company and she continued, "You will have a son. He will be stubborn and bold, this is certain. He will play an important role in the rescue of Middle Earth, as we know it. His name will be written into history itself, so my advice to you, is to give him a name that suits a warrior to last the ages."

The bushy beard he had to cover his face and most of his chest could not hide his delight. "Thank you, young lady. Hear that boys, I'm having a son! I suppose I might have to acquire a wife for such things!" and they all laughed.

"So the Warg Slayer can also see the future. You have quite a skill set girl." Dwalin with his arms crossed and leaning back against the wall, emerged as he exposed her.

"Oh, you have heard of me? That makes me pleased; only one dwarf carries such an extensive axe and has tattoos on his head. It is an honor to be acknowledged by you Lord Dwalin, great axe bearer."

"There was rumor of a dwarvish female warrior, with dusty red hair who fought with twin blades. I will admit it amused me to hear."

"Well perhaps if we ever get the chance, that amusement can be put to better use, my Lord."

"I don't fight women."

"Good thing I don't consider myself a woman. I'm a warrior, I have been studying for the better part of my life."

He merely nodded as she sat next to Kili to begin making her bows and the candles burned bright along side the fire when Balin asked her, "Well then child, if you are here, where is your mother?"

She stopped cutting at the bough, and without looking at him, "My mother is dead. She died when I was nine; a year before Smaug took the Lonely Mountain."

When he stepped out of the darkness she could feel it. He was terribly handsome, his shoulders were broad and every muscle in his body commanded attention. His eyes had power and intensity behind their grey light. When he spoke his voice was low and sultry but authoritative and honest. She could say she had been looking into his eyes, but she hadn't, because she couldn't bear to look at him directly now.

"Be grateful she wasn't amongst those who perished by fire."

She was shocked that he would speak to her directly, she assumed that she was too low of birth, but what he had said enraged her, and she didn't care much for protocol then. She laughed.

"You think that is funny do you?! Thousands died that day, the searing smell of flesh permeated that air past where we migrated to. My people are laborers and have no place to return to, and you find that amusing!"

"No. The horror that occurred that day is no laughing matter. I was in the Shire when I heard." She looked at her lap, then up again, "I wept for days. My best and worst memory destroyed in one moment. I laugh at your pretentious comment. You assume that my mother had a more peaceful death than those who suffered in masses." It was hard to look up at him, as he stood in front of her glaring down, his eyes blazing into hers. She tore herself from him and looked down the hall at nothing.

"Three men came to our house in the village. The first thrust his shield into her chest. The second grabbed me, pushing me to the ground and holding my head so I could watch as the third cut open her throat. 'This one too?' asked the one holding me. 'No, she has to be alive so he is always wondering if his bastard daughter is dead or not.' Said throat man. 'This dwarf better pay up' said shield. 'He's a noble, he has plenty of gold' and with that they were gone. I rushed to my mother and caressed her head as she slowly choked on her own blood." She looked back up at him, trying to subdue the water that was gathering in her eyes, "So please, your Grace, don't tell me to be grateful she didn't have the instant death of dragon's fire."

Thorin knew he was wrong, but he wasn't going to admit it, not to this woman who defied him with every breath. He went back to his hovel and then the pheasant was passed around and small conversation ensued. Asta and Kili were engaged about talking about bows and the difference between elfish and dwarvish curvatures. Bilbo and Ori were discussing maps and drawings. Thorin and Balin were in a serious conversation that could not be overheard. Upon finishing her plateful, Asta gave her compliments to the chef, then with all her nerve, she walked up to Balin and Thorin who looked sideways at her.

"I have a proposition for you, your Grace, my lord, and as you plan to leave before dawn, I feel I should speak up."

"How did you—" Balin's anger at this woman grew.

"I can see into the future my lord, not willingly I will add, its rather sporadic."

"What is this proposition?" Thorin looked down at her in contempt.

"I wish to accompany you for a portion of your journey." Balin was instantly in disagreement but she spoke quickly. "You plan to pass through the Greenwood, but it is a great journey past the mountains and I have a home on the edge of the forest, you could rest, resupply there, all I ask is to join you that far."

"Why would you want to leave your precious elves?" Inquired Thorin.

"Because bows don't snap like that without being forced to." Kili additioned to the conversation.

"Yes. It seems that I have worn out my welcome here. I shall return to my home in the forest until I decide what to do and where to go next. Besides, I would like to spend more time with Bilbo and Gandalf while they are most certainly alive."

Thorin looked her over. She didn't seem to have ill intent, and the promise of a place to rest after a trek through the mountains did have its benefits, "Let me discuss with my men."

She nodded and returned to the window with Bilbo. They shared stories for a short period of time, when Thorin called to her. "Woman."

"Asta." She curtly said.

"We will not be responsible for your life."

"And I will not be responsible for any of yours."

He sighed and looked at the ground, fearing for what bringing a woman amongst them would do, but even he had heard of her skills in battle. He also had a conscious. He felt pity for the girl, and she would only be further caused pain if she stayed. She didn't even look like an elf. She wasn't tall, she wasn't especially beautiful like the elves, she even had the harsh tone and look of a dwarf in her stature. Why should she not be among them?

"Very well. You may join us and we will rest in your home in the Greenwood."

"Thank you, your Grace."

"Thorin. No one calls me by my title."

She nodded and turned to see Kili beaming at her. He was especially happy she was joining them, and she was especially pleased that someone wanted her along.

Asta returned to her room to gather her things and called for Endras. She explained her reasons of leaving and that she wanted to thank Lord Elrond, but she could not herself. She pulled a bow from under her bed and grabbed her cloak, handed a written note to Endras and hugged him tightly. The dawn would soon be upon them so she ran to her fellow travellers. Endras watched as they disappeared between the rocks and while flipping the letter in his hand he dropped it, and a corner peeked out with a second letter inside, addressed to him.

Dear Endras:

I have had many good days here at Rivendell, and the majority of them I attribute to you, but my destiny calls. Thorin is King Under the Mountain; I can feel his success in my bones. I must ensure that he lives to see Erebor returned to the dwarves, so I must go. Please know, you will always be with me, my friend.

Asta.

He looked up from the letter and silently wished her all the happiness in Middle Earth.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning was clear and while they moved along, Rivendell slipped behind the rock of the mountain. The city had a golden glow about it as it sometimes did, but it differed so greatly from the place they were going that Asta grew worried. Bilbo was the one who looked back, and he noticed that Gandalf was not among them.

"Where is Gandalf?"

"He will meet us in the mountains; I suggest you keep on Master Baggins." Thorin passed Asta, and she understood that there was not a camaraderie between Bilbo and himself. She went to the hobbit and reassuringly placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry Bilbo, he'll meet us. He is a wizard, after all." She smiled down at him and they carried on.

Being amongst dwarves made Asta feel oddly at home. The way they spoke was harsh and direct. The elves were always very polite and intelligent, which made them imposing sometimes. The manner of dwarves spoke leagues with her because they were things she never had the opportunity to escape to. For the most part she enjoyed eloquence and kindness but sometimes she enjoyed being more open and truthful, like she was with Endras. He was foolish and abrasive to the elfish norm but that's what had made him fun.

Most of the dwarves were similar. Kili and Fili were troublemakers, and she could tell that their bond as brothers was strong. Dori was the dwarf who took the pheasant from her, he was polite and loved tea, he carried spices on him that smelt rich when she was near him. Bofur was especially funny and kind in a way that made her feel welcome and less like it was courtesy. Dwalin always looked as if he was ready to fight, and he walked in a way that was prominent. Balin stayed far from her, although he would glare from time to time in her direction. Thorin stayed close to him, he would get up and walk around everyone but he would always return to Balin. Nori was fairly quiet, and sometimes he would just wonder off, and then reappear when they needed him. Ori was quieter than the other dwarves and she could see him off drawing when they rested, which excited her very much. Bifur didn't speak anything but ancient dwarvish, due to the fact that there was an axe head buried in his skull, so they didn't talk much. Bombur loved food, and always tried to sneak some away from whoever was cooking. Oin couldn't hear very well so there was little to say in the mountains to him, and Gloin was frightening, more so than Dwalin, because Dwalin could be coerced into conversation, but Gloin would just glare, he was tough and coarse all around.

From what she could determine from all of it was that Fili and Kili were Thorin's nephews. Balin and Dwalin were brothers, and cousins of Thorin. Oin and Gloin were brothers and also cousins to Thorin. Ori, Nori, and Dori were brothers, although they had some mixed parentage along the way, either not the same father or not the same mother, they were very different looking from each other. Bombur and Bofur were brothers and Bifur was their cousin with no relations to the others. Despite their different heritages they stuck together and they worked together, it was so tightly knit that Asta wondered if someone with no name would be able to join them someday.

It had been a few days going and the weather had begun to change. It was getting stormy and the wind was chill, so they continued their journey in haste. They travelled along narrow cliff edges that lead to deep plummets and although dwarf bodies and bones were tough, Asta knew she could not survive a fall with her weak human frame. Closer the clouds drew themselves as the sky seemed to narrow at high peaks. Sounds of thunder crashed, although there was no lightning to be seen. The winds picked up and great gusts would push the company close to the mountain walls. There was no purpose of speaking in such conditions as the wind would carry it away and the thunder would clap so loudly that even if it reached another person, they could scarcely hear it.

Asta drew her cloak close to her face, the fur at the edge of the hood providing some form of protection. She turned to see Bilbo shivering in his Shire clothing. In the Shire it never truly gets cold, not like in the mountains in any case, and he was ill prepared for such events. He kept up though and carried the burden like any other.

It was completely black now, no light peeked through the clouds, or it did not dare, for fear to illuminate what was before them. Great Stone Giants were playing great games, throwing boulders and trees at one another in good sport, but their good sport could mean death for the company.

The rain began to pelt down and soon hail joined, so the group decided it best to find shelter, but before the could manage, a stone giant grabbed a piece of the mountain above them, causing boulders to rain amongst droplets and hail. Everyone pressed against the mountain and covered their heads in a desperate attempt to save themselves. When all was said and done they checked to make sure there was no casualties.

"Bilbo!" Asta cried from the centre of the line, reaching her arms out as the hobbit clung to the edge, his eyes wide with fear and wanting to be saved. In an instant Thorin was on the cliff face pulling him up on the ledge again.

"Did I not say he does not belong?! He is hardly able to stay on his feet! Barely a burglar." He turned to push past the others and lead them to safety. Asta couldn't look at him as he passed, because she felt it too, that Bilbo, this Bilbo, was not a good choice as a burglar.

They finally reached a cave and it was decided that Bofur would take the watch, and that they would get their rest, for they would press on in the morning. The dwarves didn't question it, but Bilbo asked, "What of Gandalf?"

"Plan's change." Thorin said shortly.

Asta began to see that there was division of the dwarves and Bilbo and Gandalf. This was even evident in their sleeping arrangements, as Bilbo was often on his own and the dwarves rather close together. She had no idea where she belonged on this scale and so gave herself a place between them.

Sleep came easily to most and when all was quiet Bilbo made for the door.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" someone whispered.

Bilbo turned to Bofur, "He's right, I don't belong here. I belong in the Shire, with no adventures, and no dwarves. I don't know why I even left."

"But you can't go now, you're our burglar." Bofur attempted with compassion.

"Heh, you don't need me anymore. Take Asta in my place, she can at least fend for herself."

Thorin had his eyes open and was listening intently when he noticed Asta was looking right at him. Her face was visible through the swarm of dwarf bodies and it showed no particular emotion, but her eyes were staring at him, judgmental and accusing. He scrunched up his nose at her to confirm that he felt no remorse at his words.

"I wish you all the happiness, I truly do." Said Bofur as Bilbo turned to leave, "What's that?" point at Bilbo's sword.

The sword was glowing a frightening blue, and Bilbo looked up at Bofur in anxiety and the floor began to shake. Thorin was on his feet, Asta close behind and Thorin began to wake his men in desperation. "UP! GET UP!"

The dwarves tried to gather their things but the floor opened below them and they fell, and fell, and fell. They tossed and turned down a slide before crashing abruptly on a landing. A great many goblins came rushing at them, and still disorientated, they were taken captive. The goblins took them along a series of suspended bridges; Asta and Nori noticed that the goblins had left Bilbo behind. She looked at him in fear that they would find and kill him but before she saw if they did, he was out of sight.

"Who dares entre my kingdom, armed?!" Demanded the Great Goblin.

The Kingdom he spoke of was a series of rickety bridges, dirt tunnels in the most unrefined way, lit by torches that blazed about. No one answered him, all was silent, and Asta wasn't going to draw attention to herself, not here.

"Very well, if they won't talk, we'll make the squawk! Bring the Bone Crusher…" he began a list of gruesome torture devices and finished with, "We'll start with the youngest!"

Ori's face paled and Asta knew Thorin would not stand to let one of his men suffer, so before he could stop the fray, she let out a noise that hushed the halls. Her voice carried clean, ethereal, low and shocking; she sang a song of The Lonely Mountain.

A peak along the sky

Tall and alone

The mountain rests away

From the lives of man and

Durin's folk.

The Lonely Mountain

Cannot be claimed

Not even by those of fame.

Only the dragon, fierce

Can through the rock, pierce.

She stopped there as a gap from the Great Goblin to herself, had be made. Two goblins pushed her through, in front of the other dwarves.

"You were hiding a woman! No wonder you were silent." Snickers throughout the caves made her glare up at all of them, "And not just any woman, The Warg Slayer!" ooo's and ahh's mixed with laughter erupted. She just looked up at him, his massive body covered in boils and oozing some nature of secretion. It revolted her but she kept her gaze locked on him.

"I've heard very interesting things about you girl." He looked down at her with a snide smirk that made her feel judged and wanting to stab in him the belly before he revealed anything she didn't want the dwarves to hear, but she was curious.

"What things?"

"I heard about your whore mother, and how she died." She seemed to give a look of pure hatred as his half smile grew into a wide smirk, "How Gandalf the Grey took you from your village, then when he brought you back, the villagers chased you away with pitch forks and steel."

Her anger was growing by the second, her face reddened and her brow furrowed, "They chased you out saying that you were…what was it again? Ah…cursed, wasn't it? You haven't been welcome in a human village since, proven by your scar on your shoulder."

He turned to his audience, "Sad isn't? That wasn't the end though was it?"

She refused to give him any more satisfaction, so she tried to hide her rage, although it was burning from her very core and was making it's way through her veins.

"I heard about the scars you were left with, and how the Elven King saved your life, and even though he invited you into his home, he would never let you marry one if his kin. You will always be alone. After all, no man, of any kind, would love a woman who is no more than a cursed…" as he said the next few words he would pause and wait for the laughter, the cheers that would rise from the tunnels, "destroyed… body of a mix blood, would they?"

She could kill him, she could run and take the sword that was only yards away from her feet, and she could slash at his throat and guarantee that he could not breathe another word. She hadn't wanted the dwarves to know that she was King Thranduil's ward. She hadn't quite come to terms with all that that meant.

"Oh my, she doesn't look pleased. Tell me, girl, why do you, who values the elves so greatly travel with dwarves?" she only looked at him, eyes blazing and stubborn.

"Very well, take her to my quarters, lets see what an elfish, dwarvish, gondorian, goblin looks like eh?" Two goblins grabbed her arms and started to carry her off, "Oh don't worry dear, I'm not partial to beauty." The company stared on in shock and horror. He grimaced as she began to panic, she threw her legs around one of the goblin's waists, disorientating him enough to release her arm, which quickly found itself in the opposing goblin's face. An onslaught of goblins approached her, but she ran, jumped on one's head and over the pack she was. Her whole body represented anger and fury now, her breathing got heavier as she tried to calm down, her hands we partially clenched and her eyes looked upon him in such a way that he stopped laughing. She was feral and ready to strike like a wolf once bitten.

"You're quite acrobatic aren't you? Seize her!" this time many more goblins came at her, pinning her to the ground and dragging her off.

"I'll bite off my own tongue before I lie with the likes of you! I'll hang you from your own intestines, and leave you for the damned to see!" She began to scream desperately at him, threats that she fully intended to carry out. "You bastard!"

"Stop!" one voice called and Kili tried to break free to her, "She isn't a part of the company, she knows nothing!" But it was to no avail.

"Wait!" this voice carried over all the rest, and Thorin stepped out from the cluster. Asta's head drooped, not in thanks but in failure. As a conversation concerning Azog the Defiler, was taking place, Asta was searching for a way out. She needed to get them out of there, and quickly, before Azog knew of their position. Tunnels, tunnels and more tunnels, she couldn't make heads or tails of the place.

The Great Goblin began screaming, "THE GOBLIN CLEAVER! BRING ME HIS HEAD!" as a great light burst. Everyone was knocked over by a gust of wind and once they were back to, Gandalf stood before them. "Fight. FIGHT!" Asta ran to the collection of weapons and threw Kili his bow after he caught his swords and instantly she took out two goblins, one with her bow and one with an arrow. She jabbed the sharpened edge of the bow into the stomach of a goblin behind her, then stuck and arrow in the throat of an on coming enemy with her bare hands. The company began to run and traverse through the hoards of goblins that attacked them from every direction. She caught glimpses of her comrades in action now. Balin was an expert with a blade, Dwalin pummeled through with his axe. Thorin essentially danced around his enemies as he slayed them, Fili cut down anything in his path and Kili fended off arrows with a sword. These dwarves were experts, most of them, some just hacked at whatever came their way, but she knew she could learn from them. They finally assembled as one group when the Great Goblin jumped through their bridge; Gandalf took the lead.

"What will you do wizard?"

Gandalf lunged at him, poking him in the eye and slicing his belly. He looked at the wizard in pain and said, "Damn you, Dwarves." And he fell onto the bridge, crushing the supports below, which sent our company on a landslide where they were slammed and beaten down a narrow hole, only to be squished like meat in a sandwich between planks of wood.

"Well, that could have been worse." Bofur said as the body of the Goblin King came down upon them. Asta was on the bottom, so it wasn't so bad for her, with all the supports, but she wanted out nonetheless, and even more so when the angry goblins came clambering down the rocks.

Gandalf hurried them out into the sunlight and when they finally had a chance to breathe, he counted them, exclaiming, "Where is Bilbo? Where is our hobbit?!" and Asta remembered.

Her eyes searched across the faces as Thorin spoke up, "I know where our Hobbit is, halfway back to this home. He's been dreaming of his hearth since he left."

The dwarves hung their heads and looked at the ground, unable to stand up for the hobbit, but also not without dismay at his disappearance. After a long silence, "Then, it was good to travel with you." Asta declared as she turned to the goblin caves.

"Where are you going?" Thorin asked roughly.

"Back. To make sure he got out."

"Why? Let the hobbit, find his own way back."

She turned to him, walked so she could see his face, her eyes still furious, "Because, not all of us can say that we have twelve friends who come when you call, Thorin Oakenshield." She turned to see Bilbo standing above them.

"I'm right here." He announced and she ran to him embracing him tightly, "You crazy hobbit."

"It's alright, I'm right here." He soothed into her neck, as he embraced her back. When they parted he confronted Thorin.

"We had given you up, how did you get out?" enquired Kili.

"Well, I um…" and he fiddled with something in his pocket that Gandalf noticed, then he said "Well it is of no matter now."

"No. I want to know." Thorin forced, "Why, why did you come back?"

"I know you doubt me, you always have. And yes, I do dream of Bag End. I miss my maps, and my chair, because that's my home. That's where I belong. But you don't have that, a home. It was taken from you, and I'd like to help you get it back, if I can."

It was Thorin whose strong gaze deterred this time, he was ashamed that the hobbit had such good intentions and yet he could not accept him as the others had. In midst of his deep thoughts he heard a call throughout the woods… "Out of the frying pan…" and Gandalf finished his sentence, "And into the fire. Run!"

The wargs were upon them in seconds and Asta ran with the rest until they reached the cliffs edge, where she yelled, "Climb!" When she turned around Bilbo was trying to fetch his sword from the warg that lay at his feet, "BILBO!" but he managed to make it up a tree with the help of Dori. The animals surrounded the trees snapping up and breaking branches, causing the dwarves to climb higher. When he came, he commanded without words and the wargs backed from the trees.

He stood astride a great white warg, his huge, scarred chest expanding the animal's frame. In his left arm where Thorin had severed his hand, there was a metal rake of sorts, and he held a mighty mace in his right. He laughed low and terribly, and he spoke in his native language saying "Thorin" and "Thrain" perfectly. Thorin was in shock, Azog was dead, and Thorin killed him long ago, avenging his grandfather and his father. His heart wasn't beating anymore, but his head was. As the orc spoke to him, his body numbed, sound ceased and he felt no wind on his face, he only saw a nightmare come true. The Pale Orc motioned at Thorin and then the orcs attacked the trees.

The beasts snapped up with jaws capable of snapping a man in half, a dwarf or a hobbit would only suffice as a snack, if any were caught. The dwarves were letting out cries as the tress began to falter under the pressure from the wargs. One tree fell backwards which created a series of the same until the last tree was tipped over the cliff and all the dwarves were attached to it. Dori slipped from his branch due to Ori clinging to his legs, and it was by Gandalf's staff that they were saved. Gandalf had lit pinecones on fire and thrown them at the wargs, who hate fire, so flames blazed a wall between the company and the orcs.

Thorin looked through the sparks at Azog and his courage raised, entreating him to get up and fight. He stood and Asta was clinging to a branch, trying to get on top of it, but when she saw Thorin readying himself to face Azog, her attempts became an intense struggle. She screamed at him hysterically, "Thorin! No! Thorin, don't go! Thorin, no!" But he was not in a realm that her voice could reach him at and Dwalin who was also trying to get on top of his branch yelled at her "Have faith in him! He will not fall so easy!"

"No! I have seen it! I have seen his death!" the dwarves looked at each other briefly and in panic, then they began to frantically call his name and get back onto the tree trunk, but it was too late.

The Pale Orc ran at Thorin through a path from the flames, the warg jumped at him knocking him down. The world seemed to slow, he got to his feet, his breathing heavy, and Azog turned to face him, his horrid grin illuminated by flame and moon. Again he ran at Thorin and when the orc's mace made contact with his chest, time stopped. Asta shrieked his name from the tree that had caught fire from the very flames that were their salvation only moments ago.

Thorin was on his back, then the white warg picked him up in her monstrous jaw, clenching on his chest, which elicited a cry of pain from him. Asta was almost on the tree now, but she needed to be quicker, she was the only one so close. The warg threw him upon a rock and the Pale Orc gave an order to another, who went to Thorin's fallen body, positioning his blade at Thorin's throat. Thorin reached for his sword but the orc slammed his boot onto the dwarf king's chest, ready to make the final blow.

Out of nowhere, Bilbo crashed into the orc, sending him away from Thorin and Bilbo, while sitting on the orc's chest, stabbed and stabbed his sword into the fiend.

The white warg picked Bilbo up, but hobbits are just small enough that when they turn sideways they can fit between her teeth and she flung him with no major injury. The Pale Orc changed targets now, and while examining the hobbit curiously a flaming pinecone hit him in the face. Asta was now where Thorin was when he met Azog's eyes. She looked at Azog through furrowed brow and said to him in his language, "I am your opponent now."

"Warg Slayer." He glared at her, "you will die slowly."

They ran at each other through the same path as Thorin did and the strength in their strides matched. The warg jumped at her and instead of running ahead, she fell to her knees and slid along the ground beneath the warg, allowing Asta to slip both of her blades into the warg's throat, cutting down her stomach. Blood covered Asta from her face to her thighs as a grotesque reward. The warg's neck buckled under the weight of the rest of the body that threw the orc from it's back. Two more orcs on wargs ran at her, but two arrows found themselves embedded in the heads of the riders, so Asta turned sideways and spun, cutting down the left then the right warg. Kili's skills as an archer had saved her, and the others came to the fight at last.

Azog gave a booming cry as he looked at the dead body of his pet, then with more rage than she deemed possible, he came at her. She readied herself and he ran, raising his mace, but she slipped under his arm. She was no match for him in strength but she knew that she was quicker than he. She ran to Thorin's side and shook him emphatically, "Thorin! Thorin! Wake up! Please wake up!" but he had found her, and quickly turning around, she crossed her blades, to counter his mace. He was going to stab his rake arm into her, when a bird's caw sounded throughout the battle. Giant eagles took the wargs from the cliff, letting them fall to their deaths. His attention deterred for a moment, she slashed at his chest, opening a new wound. He cried out, perhaps in pain, perhaps in frustration as his army was flung from the precipice. She began to attack him as best she could, one blade after the other in quick succession, making a gap between him and Thorin. An eagle picked up Thorin's body gingerly, and carried him away. Azog's face contorted into fury as the colossal birds saved each of the members. As the eagle picked up Bilbo she smiled and watched the majestic creature soar above her and Azog's head. She backed away, making her way to the cliff edge, still fending off the great mace and rake. She took a quick look around to see how much further she had to go when an eagle shrieked below her, but when she looked away, she looked too long and he thrust his rake arm at her. Asta only had enough time to push it from its original target, her chest, to the outside edge of her arm. She yelled as it made contact tearing flesh from her. She grabbed at the wound then with one final look at Azog, the Defiler, she pushed herself from the cliff and onto the back of the eagle below.

The giant bird's feathers were soft and wonderful to touch. She ripped some of her sleeve to wrap her arm, which wasn't bleeding as bas as she thought, but still needed pressure. When she had secured the bandage she looked ahead, finding an amazing sight before her. The sun was rising and the light hit the eagles, illuminating a section of them. Some carried two dwarves, some only carried one. They passed mountain peaks and soared through clouds, which were cool on Asta's bare cheeks, but provided relief to her arm. She touched her face as the blood dried and she slid one of her swords from its sheath to see how much there was. She looked horrifying. The blood was a thick streak that carried from one eye to the outside corner of the other. It trailed from her hair, all the way to her mid thigh. As it dried pieces would flake off in the wind, revealing the white of her skin below. The whites of her eyes were prominent and her iris blended in with the blood well. She was tired now, much had happened and she had fought with more strength that she should have. She knew that once they were on land again she would face danger and she feared the consequences.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you feeling alright?" a deep voice inquired.

It took Asta a moment but when she saw that the bird was looking at her she understood, "You can speak!"

"Yes, although we often choose not to. Are you all right? Your arm was hurt."

"I am fine now, thank you."

"Something is troubling you."

"I think that I have made some of my company very angry."

"How so?"

She was unsure if she should speak to this creature, she did not know if eagles were a noble race, or were like the ravens in the forest, greedy and conniving, but they had helped them, so she told him. She told him who she was and how friends were hard to come by. She knew because of her foresight that Azog was alive and that Thorin would fight him, so she vowed that when they met, she would join him, and prevent the death she had seen. She could never tell him about it because that was the only rule about being a seer.

"What is the punishment?"

"Generally the seer must give their life, in repair for saving one without their own power."

"This is grave news, you had no ill intent, and waited until the last moment to tell them did you not?"

"Yes, but I still told them."

"Fear not, child of the mountains, if your heart remains sincere then your friends will see it."

She lay on her stomach and putting her hands by her face she grasped some of the feathers at the eagle's neck, and squeezed them lightly. "Thank you."

The morning air was brisk at their altitude, but as the sun rose it got warmer. Once the sun was fully above the horizon she could see the eerie of the eagles. It was a high rock with an eagle's head roughly carved into the side with a flat top, for landing. One by one the eagles dropped their baggage and flew around. Thorin was first, then Gandalf who ran to him. As each dwarf was put down they sprinted to Thorin's side. By the time Asta was down, Gandalf had done his magic and Thorin was on his feet, praising Bilbo and hugging him. She was happy for Bilbo, for finally getting the recognition he deserved. Thorin let go of Bilbo and noticed a distant mark on the landscape. The Lonely Mountain was beyond the forest and a plain, hazy in the morning light. They all stared at it, with hope in their hearts and the feeling of success on their shoulders.

It was Gandalf who mentioned carrying on, "We should move from this spot."

"Yes, we need to get to the house before dark and although it is not far, we will need to collect a few things along the way." Asta stated.

When she was finished, a tension rose, everyone's backs remained to her, but when Balin turned to face her, he was livid. "Why should we follow you?" he could not be contented, and he accusingly continued "You knew. You knew that Azog was alive, that Thorin would die, yet you said nothing! You waited until the last moment, when he was on his back, blade to his throat to say anything!" his face had gone red and the others turned to face her, with mixed expressions. Some were anger, and some were just trying to understand why.

"What?" Thorin asked, unsure if he should be angry or not.

Balin carried on, "Probably on order from your King Thranduil, no doubt! You, his ward, so loyal and true! Such a high respect you must have for your elf king that you would risk the King Under the Mountain."

She began to say her argument, walking towards Balin, when a hand hit her left cheek. She stumbled at the force of it and her cheek split from her cheekbone to just before her lip, and blood began to trickle down her face. She was shocked to see Thorin standing above her, his shoulders raised slightly, making him look larger and his face twisted in rage. "Do you deny it?" he said this in almost a whisper.

She let her hand fall to her side as she righted her posture. "I-I am Thranduil's ward, and I-I did know about your death but…"

He slapped her other cheek leaving it in the same state as the other, but he had hit her with such force that she was now on the ground, clutching her wounded arm, that she had landed on. She sat on her knees, head pressed to the ground still gripping her injury.

"May you carry those marks for the rest of your life, branding you as a traitor to all of Durin's folk." Thorin said as he picked the skin from his rings. "We carry on."

"Thorin, wait…" Gandalf tried to plead.

"I'll hear no more of it!" He yelled, his voice echoing off the rocks.

"You can't go." Asta lifted her head, spitting the blood that had trickled into her mouth. What a sight she was. Her hair disheveled and crusted with warg blood. Most of the blood on her face and clothes still existed and now her new cuts stained her lips with liquid and her cheeks shined in the sun. Her shirt torn to make the bandage for her arm, freshly bleeding thanks to the throbbing and the fall.

"You, will not follow us." He grabbed her by the back of the head and she said it plainly, "You will die if you go."

"Really? Another vision of yours?"

"No." He still held her up by her hair, "Gandalf's magic can not save you from death. It can only slow its coming."

Thorin looked at Gandalf who nodded in agreement. He let out a grunt and threw her head to the ground. He paced back and forth in front of her. "What would you have me do then?! Go with her?! Oin has medicines, we don't need her!"

"Wrong." She stood up wavering before getting her balance, "The pain will come first, and then the blood will start pouring from your body." She looked around, her arms outstretched, "Can't you smell it? The Greenwood is sick, the animals will be hungry, the wolves out searching for clean meat, and when your wounds start oozing again, who do you think the packs will come for?"

Her logic was sound, and it made him angry. This woman tricked him once; he wouldn't let it happen again. When he turned to her she was putting a plant into her mouth and chewing it. She then untied a bandage from her arm and he realized that she was injured as well.

"Asta! What happened?!" Bilbo was at her side, not sure where to put his hands for fear of hurting any other concealed wounds. She took the chewed plant from her mouth and began to line her arm cut with it, then she replaced the bandage. She didn't cry, she didn't fuss at all and she didn't respond to the question, but Bofur did.

"It was when you were fighting Azog wasn't it?" he stepped from behind Thorin to look down at the evidence of her exhaustion that was painted in red all over her.

"You fought the Pale Orc?" Thorin looked at her, still angry, but with more sympathy that before.

"She fought him, and kept him from reaching you." Kili piped up.

Why didn't she say anything? Why wasn't she defending herself? If she was a dwarf, where was her pride? "Is this true? Did you save my life?" his anger was rising again.

She looked at him now, not directly, more at his chest, "No, Bilbo did that. I merely protected your body when he could not." She stood up again. "The magic will wear off soon and I need some extra herbs before we get to the house to make the salve you need. We should move." She walked past Thorin and the others parted. She didn't look at them, but they all watched her as she went on, and no one more so than Kili. He was so ashamed that his uncle had treated her so before knowing everything, and that his own voice was lost when she could have used it. They turned to Thorin for instruction and he stared at the ground looking before gruffing and carrying on, following Asta.

As they walked down the winding path he realized she was right. The Greenwood was sick, and you could smell it. A putrid, heavy smell like rotting plants and animals came from some deep crevice in the forest.

She stopped at a spring, called to Oin to grab some herbs that were close by and she cleaned the blood from her face. She wet her sleeve that was still in tact and wiped at the cuts from Thorin gently. They soon carried on and Thorin's side started to hurt in a dull pulsing way. "How much further?"

She noticed his pain and said, "We are here." Except, there was no house to be seen. Tricked again, thought Thorin. "You will particularly like it I think, Bilbo. I had it fashioned after what I could remember of Bag End, although taller to allow for my human and elfish guests." She walked to a tree and pressed a notch in the side, then slid a panel of bark up in a pivot above her head. Behind the bark was a hollowed set of stairs that led down into the ground.

"This is rather heavy so if you wouldn't mind hurrying through the door." Gloin came and took the door and said, "You go in lass, we'll follow." So she went down the staircase, ahead of the rest.

Each dwarf went down, the stairs were dark and narrower than Bombur would have preferred, but tall enough for Gandalf to stand upright. A small dim light at the bottom of the stairs flickered as Asta was lighting candles. "Take your boots off here please. Cloaks, hoods, jackets over in the closet please, and weapons in the first room to your left down that corridor." She had to point because there were four.

How like Bag End it was, plain walls, wooden floors and wood structures that supported the circular halls. The kitchen was much bigger, with elaborate cupboards that had floral carvings in the beautiful, lightly stained wood. A matching thick wooden table with long benches as seats took up most of the open space in the kitchen. The other prominent part of the entrance was the living space, a hearth and many chairs, long couches and thick rugs under each. The rest of the house was dark, but Asta was at work getting the candles lit, and the fire blazing. The fire, once lit, illuminated the room in such a way that Bilbo felt right at home. Quilted blankets and crocheted afghans were strewn across the couches, which had thick cushions on them and they looked so inviting.

She passed a candle to Gandalf and asked him to lead them to where they would place their other things, and sleep. "Dori, can you follow me." Asta asked while heading down the farthest right corridor, lighting the way as she went. Dori looked at his brothers then decided to follow. She led him deep into the hallway, "Here we are," as she stopped at a great wooden door, she turned the knob and he knew where he was in an instant. "Not as impressive as Bilbo's stores, but feel free to use anything you like, I'm sure everyone is hungry." She left him without looking at him, then setting her candle on a ledge of a cabinet she began to pull jars with herbs in them out and onto the table. She grabbed a bowl and started to pound the herbs.

"Thorin." She looked up in his direction from under her brow, "The room between those corridors, go there, strip down to where your wounds extend. I'll be there in a moment."

"You don't give me orders."

She sighed heavily, "Someone convince your king to get undressed would you?" She returned to her mashing.

"Come, Thorin." Kili led him to the room and shut the door behind them. Gandalf returned just as Asta was finishing up making the salve. His heart grew heavy at the sight of her, sitting at the table, crushing with all her might. She tried so hard; she risked everything, only for two new scars for the collection and an undecided fate.

"Asta, we must discuss your punishment." He mentioned, not without sadness. She didn't stop working, but instead, ignored him. "Asta…"

"Let me get everyone settled in, will you? Then, after I am finished with Thorin you may do what you must." She wouldn't look at him, she hadn't shed tears in a very long time, and she certainly wasn't going to do it here amongst dwarf warriors.

She knocked at the door, Kili opened it and they exchanged quick glances. He looked at her in pity and sorrow, and she looked at him, not knowing what to expect. He reached up and touched her cheek, which caused her alarm, as it was rare to be touched. He ran his finger along the forming scab. "I'm sorry." he murmured.

"Don't be. I have no use for beauty anyways." She brushed past him and he shut the door after looking back at her.

"What punishment, Gandalf?" inquired Ori.

"Punishment?" Kili was bewildered, "What more does she have to be punished for?"

Gandalf sat and lit his pipe. "The only rule of seers is one about death. You can not tell one about their own death.."

"What is the sentence usually?" Asked Nori, although they knew it would not be good.

Gandalf heaved a sigh. "Well Gandalf?" Fili urged. He had no great affinity for the girl, he did feel pity for her but he had more pressing to think about. It was Kili he feared for. His brother was attached to her in a way that he did not yet know how to describe and if he lost her, Fili did not know how Kili would react.

"You're going to take her life…" Bilbo's voice trailed off.

Kili was standing upright, "No! That's outrageous, for what does she have to answer for?"

"Would it be you Gandalf?" Ori looked as if he would cry.

"It has not been decided. I must go consult with queen Galadriel, her summer home is not far from here, so I will leave here tonight and be back before the sun falls tomorrow."

The room grew solemn now. They were mixed about her, most were sure she didn't deserve death, but they weren't sure that the accepted her. Ori and Dori of course had compassionate hearts and knew she was dwarvish through and through. Kili had such great interest in her, he finally had someone to talk about hunting, bowman-ship, and she was someone who would laugh with him. Fili on the other hand resented her for lying, but he knew she meant well. What went through his head went more fervently through most. She had elfish blood, and a loyalty to them that did not give her a gateway to the dwarvish realm. Balin was ashamed of his actions, but he still would not accept her into Erebor when the time came. Dwalin knew his brother's position on the matter, but rather than judge her on her blood, he judged her on her actions to which he felt she had merit. Oin and Gloin were of old blood, traditional and political, their view was shared with Balin, although they swayed when she fought with them. Bombur cared little for the trivialities of who was who and why, he was despondent and would not hate nor love her. Nori was similar, it took a great thing of interest to tear him of his love of gold and as far as he was concerned, if she didn't want any, she was fine. Bifur, although unable to express his thoughts was intuitive and knew she was willing to help their cause. Bofur was quite the opposite; he was taken with her. He could handle a sword with moderation, but the way she was in battle made him both jealous and full of admiration. Each of them desired something different at the end of their journey, and whether or not she fit into that, determined quite a bit of their opinion of her. Despite this, none of them wanted her dead. Most of them gathered around the fire, Oin tending to simple wounds, while Dori remained in the kitchen. When he began to cut the onions he did not wipe nor hide his tears, and no one questioned his reasoning.

When Asta entered the room where Thorin was she marched over to a set of drawers and set the bowl down. "I'm going to change."

"Shouldn't I leave then?"

"No, it doesn't matter. I just didn't want to startle you." She opened the top drawer and pulled out a new shirt, dark blue with a thick weave. She pulled the bloodstained shirt off revealing a bind around her chest that wrapped around the back of her neck as well. She slipped off her pants and grabbed a new pair, identical to the previous. He saw them, so he got up, for a better look. Countless white scars, they traversed her whole body. Three thick scars ran from her left shoulder blade to just beyond her spine and another along the right shoulder and arm that wrapped around to the front. The Great Goblin's words rang in his head "…the villagers chased you with pitchforks and steel…" She slipped her new garments on without flinching over her arm, and tucked her shirt into her pants. She reclaimed a belt from the discarded pair and she turned to him, "Don't look at me like that. I don't need your pity."

Thorin was scantily clad himself, his underclothes pulled to his waist, his shirts on the floor in a heap. His thick mane fell in front of his shoulders where you began to see the tooth marks. Bruises were forming on his chest and abdomen, so Asta knew she had to work fast. She went to him and felt incredibly small standing in front of him. His bare chest seemed to be wider than her frame twice over, and he was taller than her by at least a head, which made her feel like a child when she looked up at him. "I'm going to touch you now." Her face flushed, "Tell me if I cause any pain." Looking back down she began to press along his rib cage with trembling hands and sure enough he let out a small noise.

"I knew it. Two broken ribs." She spun him, "We're lucky those teeth didn't go right through you. Sit." She pushed his shoulder abandoning the idea of eloquence.

"Why didn't you tell me about Azog?"

"Would you have believed me?" she didn't look at him, but brushed his hair away so she could start cleaning the teeth marks.

"Probably not." He admitted.

They sat in silence for a long time and he tried to figure her out. What good would keeping him alive do for her? What reward? Was Thranduil requesting it? He realized that this was probably her first time seeing a man without clothes on, which explained her discomfort, but she worked methodically, moving from one wound to the next. Why did she just take the pain he handed to her, lying down.

"After the villagers…chased me away," She began to speak which he did not anticipate, "I crawled on hand and knee to the forest. I hoped death would find me there." She reached for more bandages, "but it was life that did. Prince Legolas found me and begged his father to save me. Once Thranduil found out who I was, when Gandalf came to me, he had decided to raise me. Apparently my mother and him were friends once. I grew up with him as my mentor, not my father. He taught me to read and write, to fight and how to follow orders; the one thing he didn't teach me was my heritage. One day, I found a manuscript about the day Smaug took Erebor, and although it said he chose wisely not to aide the dwarves and have his kin suffer the same fate, I felt enraged. I confronted him and he denied it. I didn't care that he didn't help the dwarves specifically," Thorin was ready to say something in protest but she put up a finger to tell him to wait, "I was angry because he chose not to help at all. No human, no dwarf, saw aide from them. They helped no elderly or women, children or injured. They did nothing and for that I abandoned him." Thorin looked at her, shocked at her abrasive response, yet perfectly unbiased. "Legolas and I are still friends, but I do not have any affection for his father left in me. I have no Lord, no King, and I serve no one." She took the chance to look at him and surprisingly he looked hurt.

He looked down at her bowl, "What does that do exactly?"

She was puzzled but answered, "It aids in pain relief, mending bones and small abrasions."

He dipped his hand in it and grabbed her jaw roughly. "Stay still." He rubbed the ointment on one cheek, then the other. "You did not deserve that. I misjudged you." He looked at her in her eyes and she finally had the courage to look into his. "Why did you save my life?"

"You have a destiny, and I don't need a vision to tell me that. The dwarves have known isolation and prejudice as I have. I would not wish that fate on anyone, and I believe you can take back Erebor, and save your people."

"So you would save me, so I can serve my people?"

"Yes. I will admit that I have suffered in my life, but there are moments of glistening light amongst those storm clouds. Your people deserve that light." She stood, set the bowl on the dresser and told him that she was done. She braced herself for what was outside that door. Gandalf would have told them by now.

"What stops you?"

"I think I am going to die, because I told them you were going to die."

"I don't understand." He said plainly.

"I can't talk about visions about death. I will be judged by the Guardians of Middle Earth."

A moment of shock came to Thorin, and he said, "I doubt our burglar would allow it." Then they walked out to the smell of rabbit stew filling the air and the warmth of the fire beckoned them to the cushions.


	4. Chapter 4

When they came out, the sadness was unmistakable and some, Dwalin and Bofur, couldn't take their eyes from the fire. Bilbo stood up as Gandalf declared, "I'm going now." He walked to her, "Be strong, I'll try to lessen the sentence."

"Please, don't give me special treatment. I want to be treated like everyone else." She looked up at him and he was reminded of when he first met her. Tears had streaked her face and she had looked so helpless, but that was not the woman who was watching him now. She had become so just and resilient, the way her mother had been. "Alright." he turned to go back up the staircase when he rotated back to her.

"May your journey be brief and the wind on your side." she smiled sweetly at him and for the next few moments there wasn't anyone around. He stood upright and with all the courage he possessed, he spun around and left. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching him go until she couldn't see him anymore, then she went to Dori, who was still in the kitchen, his eyes slightly red.

"Thank you. Let's eat, shall we?"

No one moved, except Bilbo who walked up to her and stood with his eyes looking right into hers. He grabbed her, immobilizing her arms and clutching her to his chest. When he loosened his grip a little, she wrapped her arms around him comfortingly. "Please, lets pretend. We are on a journey to reclaim a lost kingdom, we've had few troubles along the way and we have stopped in this hidden home for rest. Please, let us have an evening of laughter and joy. If not for yourselves, then, if I may be bold, for me." She was quiet but firm.

Bilbo squeezed her closer and with a sniffle, "As you wish."

"If someone can grab it, as it is far too heavy for me, there is a barrel of ale in the store room."

Bofur and Bombur got on their feet and were quickly down the hall as the rest began to dish up. It's hard to get passed moments of sadness, when they confront you so violently, and yet as the night carried on, the tensions ceased and much enjoyment was found. Soon it didn't matter who she was, blame it on the drink or on the pleasure of a warm place to sleep, but the dwarves treated her like she was one of their own and they saw a glimpse of her true self. They danced around the room as Asta sang merry songs, and she drank enough ale that she would scarcely remember the fun she had. Ori sat next to her challenging, matching her glass for glass, and he fell asleep rather hastily. Fili and Kili took the opportunity to draw awful faces on him from the ash from the fire. They giggled while giving him a single eyebrow, streaks from his eyelids and a smile painted to his cheeks. They left him in high hopes of seeing him realize his new face the next day.

Dwalin told epic tales of battles of old and new, ending in both sadness and victory. Balin talked of the wonders of Erebor and the glory of the gold hidden there. Gloin spoke of the mines of Moria, the beauty of its halls and the magnificence of the dwarves there. There was also a belching contest that was won by Fili. By the end of the night only a few dwarves had made it to their beds and Asta found herself sleeping on Bilbo's lap, a cushion under her head, while he slept sitting upright. Everyone had fallen asleep, except Kili, who sat across from her and Bilbo, watching her chest move up, and down, and how her lips were parted slightly and how flushed her cheeks were. Soon he fell into a deep sleep, where they met in a green forest, laughed about silly things and swam in a blue lake.

The subtle sounds of steel meeting its target awoke him, and at first he was startled, but when he noticed everyone was asleep, he calmed. Asta was gone from the hobbit's lap, so he followed the sound down a hall where pillars of light were coming down from the ceiling. Little, round, wooden panels attached to the roof by a golden hinge, had been pulled back, revealing a vertical tunnel that led to the surface. A thin, clean, metal grate, there to catch any debris, was at the bottom and light poured from it, forming small, soft circles, illuminating the hall. He continued down to the racket, where a door with a round pane of glass in the centre stood. Peering in he saw Asta, mostly unclothed, attacking a straw dummy that was larger than her. She wore a grey garment that wrapped around her chest and neck, a pair of pants that were larger at the bottom and tucked into a pair of boots that came up to mid calf. Beyond this she wore several black ties around her ankles, wrists and waist. The sweat had started to bead from her neck to her back, where Kili noticed the largest scar on her body. She attacked with exactitude and rapidity, but it was slower than usual. He noticed that his heart was pumping faster than normal and he couldn't tear his eyes away. The way she turned when she landed a hit, and the way she kicked above her head, made her body look lean and striking. It would make these lines, when the legs aligned with the torso and the arms made perfect "L"s with the body. She was dancing an intricate dance where she was completely immersed in what she was doing. It was the most mesmerizing moment he had ever seen. When he finally collected himself, removed the blush he had on his cheeks from looking so long at her, he stepped in, saying "Good Morning." She stopped and glanced at him, saying the same. "Sorry if I woke you, but I 've skipped my morning training too often while with you."

"No, no, I was awake anyways. Impressive training room." He looked down the large room. A long bag hung from the ceiling in the corner, a smooth wood outlined a softer flooring in the centre. Beyond the mat was a series of vertical wooden planks that were close together but had the capability to spin. "What is that for?" he asked about the strange maze.

"Ah, well, you spin one, and the others spin. You start at one side and without hitting the others you must make it to the other side."

"Impossible!"

"No, it just takes forethought. Let me show you." She spun one and all the rest began to whirl around. She stood with her legs together, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then stepped into the chaos. Once she had entered it was difficult to see her, but as a gap appeared through the planks he saw twist and change course, moving sideways then forward, only to emerge on the other side without disturbing any of the rotations.

"Amazing! How do you do it?!" He was so excited, like a child receiving presents on his name day.

"You have to use your other senses, and listen and feel the wind. You twist your body and move in a direction to avoid the on coming ones by either stepping back, forwards or sideways. It also helps if you turn with them. It's a very effective was of learning how to avoid enemies."

"I'd say." He admired the rest of the room before asking, "May I join you?"

"Yes, of course! Do_ you_ fight women?" she smirked while picking up her sword off the ground.

"I never have before, but I will fight you." He smirked back. "What are you wearing around your waist?"

"Oh, weights. I put rocks into these pouches and it helps me work my muscles and makes me faster in battle."

"Do you have anymore?"

She looked a little shocked, "Why, yes, in the corner there, there should be a chest of them and a chest of rocks beside."

Before he made it to the chest, he took his vest off, throwing it against the wall, then took his shirt off, treating it much the same. When he started to unbutton his underclothes Asta asked what he was doing. "Well, I don't want to have an advantage, do I?" and he smiled with his lips inside his mouth slightly. He tied the arms of his underclothes to his waist and picked up some weights. She couldn't help but watch. Admittedly, Thorin was only the second man she had seen naked, but she didn't care to look besides for his wounds. Kili was something else. You could tell he was a bowman; his arms were thick and tight. His chest wasn't as wide as Thorin's but his pectoral muscles were much more defined. His hair brushed his shoulders in length and he tied it back so that the tail touched his spine. She couldn't breathe, or she didn't notice breathing was this difficult until now. Her chest and back muscles grew tight and she could feel a flush flow to her cheeks. The rest of her body was numb and her eyes were not listening when she told them to look away. She remembered the first time she saw a young buck. His antlers were massive and his body was fit, the skin shiny from the light between the trees. He stood on top of a small mound of dirt, magnificent and steadfast. It had been the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and she felt all the same excitement now, taking in this near perfect dwarf man.

"Asta, what's the matter?" Kili looked at her with concern as her eyes took a look from the crown of his head to the bottom of his feet. 'He really is handsome'

"Nothing, nothing, I'm alright." She turned away covering her mouth, her breathing suddenly easier, like a panic it came and went quickly. She jumped up and down shaking her head to clear her mind. 'Your mind can not wander, not in a fight.' When she faced him he was grabbing a sword.

"Oh no! To avoid injury we will fight with these." She went to a wall of wooden swords, and threw one at him. He faltered with it, not anticipating the wooden one to match in weight.

"They are solid, so when you hit they can break bones, but can't cut you open, so no fatal blows, please." She stood on the mat stretching her legs. He too stretched, following her fashion. Dwarves usually just start fighting, but this was her arena.

"Ready?" she stood upright, shoulders thrown back and sword in her proper hand.

"If you are." He raised his sword and held it with two hands.

Her eyes narrowed and her body lowered. Asta's knees were bent and both hands held her sword. She began to circle.

Kili watched her, her gaze was solid and her body was strict on all planes, giving him no indication about how she would strike. He started to circle as well. They were almost full circle when her foot stepped to a different direction than before, so he lunged to strike but she parried then punched his arm.

"Do elves teach you to fight this way? Trickery and cheap shots?" he grinned again to tell her he was teasing.

"The elves taught me to never underestimate my opponent and to always fight with all options in mind." She grinned back.

"Dwarves don't often dance when they fight."

"No, I imagine you run headstrong into a storm, as a completely separate fury."

He leapt from one side to the next, hitting her sword arm, the one she had injured, but he hit softer than normal and below the wound. She quickly spun around him, ending up behind him and yelling out. He turned and parried her by hoisting the sword above his head. They were close now and the heat from her breath touched his face.

"If you hadn't called out, you would have had me."

"No dignity in stabbing someone in the back." He pushed her off and began to come at her quicker as his body adjusted to the weight. Soon they were full swing and fighting without words, but glances every time one did something the other admired. He could easily push her off him but she was quick and agile, so he often missed her by a hair. Sweat was all over both of them and they were breathing heavily.

"You're rather good with a sword." She said to him as they passed each other.

"And you're rather good with just one, let alone two."

"Swinging two blades relieves me of the weight of a shield while providing the same service, combined with the power to cut twice as much."

This time she lunged at him but instead of hitting him with her blade, she hit him with the full force of her body, upsetting his balance. She hit him with all the speed she had and soon he was knocked on his back, the tip of her sword at his throat. She smirked at him with a raise of her eyebrows.

"Never underestimate me." She released the sword and he grabbed her arm, pulling her down, he rolled his body and positioned the wooden spike at her. "Never leave your enemy able to get back on his feet."

She looked into his eyes, a deep, playful brown set, "Like Azog."

He realized his mistake and blinked a few times then said, "Yes, like Azog." Before rolling to his back. They stayed there heaving breath and staring at the ceiling.

Kili knew he shouldn't ask, but it concerned him so that he felt that he must, and if she needed to cry afterwards there was no one else around. "Are you afraid?"

Asta continued to stare at the ceiling, and although she understood what he was saying, she still asked, "Afraid of what?"

Because she didn't look at him, he didn't look at her, "Of dying."

For a long time he could hear her breathing and she said nothing, so when she did speak it was almost precious. "No."

"I am." He admitted, "I'm afraid about the people I leave behind and how they will be sad. I'm afraid of dying in pain and I'm afraid of dying without dignity." He was so straightforward that her words caught in her throat. He was so honest, just like how he fought.

"I'm afraid of dying alone, but not of dying itself. If I could have one person there, to hold my hand, just one, I could die happily."

He turned to his side to look at her, there were no tears, no sadness in her expression, just sincerity. She looked over at him and she smiled weakly. "I think knowing my mother is waiting for me, gives me strength."

He looked into her, and for the first time he felt like he saw past her face. He lost control then. She let him see something in her that he doubted anyone else had seen. "I won't let you die."

Her confusion was paired with, "What do you mean?"

"Today. Tonight. I won't let you die, there has to be another way."

He was looking at her, not just gazing but really looking and she knew that she was seeing Kili in his most vulnerable state; his most honest.

"And I won't leave you here either. Even if the company moves on, I'll come back, to visit, I have more freedom than my brother, it's doubtful that I will claim the throne, so I will visit you."

She sat up, so shocked she didn't know what to say. She had never had such a declaration of friendship before. "Thank you" Their distance was short, the most intimate allowance of space she had shared in some time. He smelt like hard work and fire smoke. A rustle of papers snapped them out of their private moment, and Ori was against the wall where Kili's clothes were, his face still black with great smudges.

"Since when have you been there?" Kili was clearly miffed at the surprise visit.

"Since you started fighting. I have some really great drawings of the two of you!"

Asta leapt up, abandoning Kili to admire Ori's work. Drawings that were only quick lines and dashes but she understood them. As they talked about the scribbles Kili was growing upset that the moment was ruined, and by admitting this, he understood something else. He was in love.

Being in love for a dwarf can mean one of two things. A life of the utmost happiness or a life alone and in grief, for dwarves only love once, and if the person they love does not love them back, they will often go out their days alone. Of course Kili wasn't thinking about this, he was trying to pin point when, where did he fall? Was it when they fought? Or when she saved Thorin, or maybe it was the moment he saw her? His mind was racing itself as one idea dashed in front of the others. He began to panic about the consequences of love and the what if's that whimpered to him from a dark abyss. He looked at her and Ori, she was laughing and smiling, admiring what he had to offer her, so what set Kili apart from the others? How did he know she wasn't already enamored with Ori, or Bofur, or even Fili? He must have looked as if he was in a state of panic because they were looking at him now, quite concerned.

"Are you alright?" Ori asked timidly, "You look a bit pale."

Asta looked on with worry and seeing her concern helped clear his thoughts a bit. "I'm alright, just feeling the ale from last night is all." Her face transformed as she guffawed at him, then she sniffed the air. Rising, she followed her nose out the door. The other two quickly followed the smell of sausages and ham into the kitchen.

"Ah! There ya are!" exclaimed Bofur, although taken back by Asta's lack of clothes, "Get yourselves washed up for breakfast!"

"Asta! What in the world are you wearing?" Bilbo was aghast at her appearance. "Go! Now! G-get some clothes on!" he covered his eyes with his arms and was thoroughly embarrassed.

"If you wish it." She laughed and handed her weights to Kili who went back down the hall to replace them. He noticed more latches to let in light when he came back, and so he undid them. When Asta came out everyone ate in plenty and it was acknowledged that everyone needed a proper bath, rebraiding and Thorin needed rest for the day, so quiet was needed. The dwarves, starting with Thorin, bathed and handed all but their underclothes to Bombur for washing. Bilbo did the same but he had brought a second set of clothes, just in case. One can never know what might happen once you step outside your door. Finally Asta's turn came and she got to draw hot water from the kettle and once she had undressed she stared into the mirror.

Her hair released from its formidable braid revealed it to be quite unruly. The scar on her shoulder was bright and hot as the light from the surface cascaded down on her. Her wound had a scab on it now, showing signs of healing; despite the slight bruise she had incurred that morning. The cuts on her cheeks were thin and when she put her fingers to it, she felt no pain. The scars that would be left would be faint if there at all, but they would always remind her of Thorin. She couldn't hate him for it, but it spoke leaps and bounds about him. If he was to be king, he needed to learn patience and to think carefully before exacting a punishment; he was still a young king.

She thought of when the company would leave, how she would not be able to see Ori's drawings as she had that morning. She knew that she would not see Kili another morning to fight. The company would leave, yes, but she was sharply reminded that she may not see another morning at all. She hugged her arms close around herself. Asta looked at herself in the looking glass, and she saw the white remnants of battles won and enemies made. Even if the excitement she felt that morning was to be relived it wouldn't matter. She got into the bath and was out before the water got cold, and came out drying her hair.

Ori stopped her by calling her name, "Asta."

She turned to face him as she was fishing water out of her ear, "May I braid your hair?" he asked very bashfully. His face was red and the others sneered at him before they realized her face was the same.

"My hair? I..I..?" she looked at fumbling hands as he nodded at her, "I only have two more bits of twine to pull it back with."

"That's alright, three is fine." They smiled at each other, their smiles both reaching their ears. She rushed off to get her supplies and the others looked at Ori baffled. He merely shrugged his shoulders. When she returned, she sat on the floor in front of him and he began his work. They talked a bit during the process about why she only ever did one braid, and why she only used twine to pull it back. He was gentle with his hands, never tugging or pulling so her head jerked. When he finished, she had two smaller braids that came from her temples that met a larger, more familiar braid that came from the top of her head. "There, now you look truly dwarvish."

She wanted to thank him, so she turned and he smiled the sweetest smile that she had ever seen. There was something in that smile that gave her comfort that she had never known. It melted her heart and she felt she would cry, "Bah! She's still missing the beard." Said Gloin, which caused stifled laughter.

Asta got up and left the dwarves to their own devices as she checked on Thorin. He was asleep when she entered, and for a long time she simply gazed at him. He would scrunch up his nose and moan slightly in pain sometimes. His body would tense and relax, but he would never wake. She made a draught and set it next to his bed, to help with the pain. 'He is strong too.' She thought before closing the door as quietly as possible. It wasn't until mid day that he left the room, Oin rubbed some ointment on his wounds, and replaced the bandages. Asta gave him a tea that would help with the pain yet again, but she said it was for excellent flavor. He did not return to bed, despite the push from his fellow dwarves and Bilbo. Thorin professed that he wanted to be sitting for a while, so his kin made him comfortable with cushions and blankets. Most of the day was spent in each others company, enjoying good food and stories of ancient times and a kingdom lost. Asta spent most of her time with Bilbo on the outer wall in comfort with tea, biscuits and pipe weed. When the outer door slid open, the room stiffened. Asta stood up to receive Gandalf as he came down the stairs but it was not Gandalf who came, but an elf.

"L-Lord Vehiron, I was not expecting you." She was shocked to see him as it was not often that he left Thranduil's side.

"Well who were you expecting," The elf peered around the room in contempt, "What are these…" he looked a Balin, then back at Asta, "Dwarves doing here, in the safe house of King Thranduil?" He looked down his nose at her.

"They aided me, my Lord, in getting here from Rivendell, and then Thorin became injured…"

"Thorin?" he interrupted. As he turned to face Thorin, his white hair spun around him like the wind had picked it up and put it gently back down again. "Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain." Vehiron did not bow, did not nod, merely looked at him. "Well, no matter. I want my room made up, we've been traveling long." He threw his bow and quiver to the floor then proceeded down the hall.

"Lord Vehiron, that room is preoccupied at the moment, but the third down the hall is open." As she began to collect his things.

In a single moment, he was on her. His thin, pale fingers wrapped around her throat, lifting her up, her back against the wall. Asta reached out her hands to his wrists, clawing at them trying to pry them from her neck, but he only pressed harder causing her to gasp for air.

"How _dare_ you. You give _my_ room, the first room, the one belonging to elvish nobility, to dwarves! You will remove them at once!"

He insinuated that dwarves were beneath him, and had Asta by the throat, this caused several of the dwarves to be at their feet, but it was Kili who decided to act. He began to walk briskly to her when Thorin said, "No, Kili." He stopped but glared at the elf, "Sit down." Thorin called authoritatively. Thorin was angry, everyone knew it and the tone of his voice led Kili to believe that he would do something Kili could not.

"Yes, listen to your throneless King." Vehiron spat at Kili, whose eyes blazed as his brother forced him to sit. If it wasn't for the rest of the company being in the way, Dwalin would have the elf's head rolling on the floor. The whole of the group wished to put the elf in his place, but Thorin made it clear that it was not their jurisdiction.

Asta was mad at Vehiron, and even though she felt no loyalty to Thorin, he was a king and should be treated as such. He had loosened his grip while these gazes took place, but upon seeing Asta's glare he tightened more than before. "Remove that look on your face, or I will remove it for you."

Her legs we kicking beneath her and the noises she made were no longer gasps, but more like that of a dying animal. She nodded.

"Do I make myself clear?" he put his face so close to hers that their noses were almost touching and she had no choice but to look at his icy eyes.

"What's all this noise about then, is Asta home?" a cheery voice followed by another white haired elf came down from the entrance. The look on his face faded instantly, "Lord Vehiron, put her down immediately!"

"You forget yourself!" His anger redirected at the new comer as Asta's face started to turn blue.

"You forget, I am her liaison to the King!" he sprung back at Vehiron. He dropped Asta and she hit the floor with a loud thud along with deep, strained gulps of air and choking.

"Remove them." He looked down at her as if she was a spot you couldn't get out of your tunic, then returned up the stairs.

"Asta!" The new elf was on his knees, trying to steady her as she gripped his shoulders, still coughing. He turned to the dwarves and noticing a very upset Thorin glaring at him, he bowed his head. "King Under the Mountain, I am sorry about this." He checked on Asta whose breathing was normalizing. " I am Sidhion, liaison for Asta, the ward of King Thranduil. Asta, are you alright?"

She pushed off him, harshly rejecting his assistance. She turned her body to the dwarves, her chest heaving, and without meeting their eyes she said, "If those of you in the first room can graciously move to the third, I would appreciate it. I'll be in the training room if you need anything." And with that she swiftly turned on her heels and was gone.

Kili and Bilbo got up to chase her but it was Dwalin who stopped them. "She does not need anyone for now. Leave her be." Kili glared at him, and then turned to yell at Thorin.

"How can you do nothing? He would have killed her!"

"It is not our place, we do not meddle in elf politics. I suggest you calm yourself before that Lord comes back, and stay out of this!" he asserted.

"You take her food, her drink, her hospitality, yet you won't help her when she needs us most. She is one of us and you leave her to fend off whatever comes her way, on her own."

"She is not one of us. She is an elf." Balin stepped forward.

"Does she look like an elf?" he waited and looked at his comrades who didn't have the courage to look back, "Does she act like an elf?" again he waited. "Do they treat her like an elf?"

"No." Sidhion softly spoke from behind the fuming Kili. He pointed at him and looked at them expectantly.

"Even they know it. She saved your life." He stepped towards Thorin, "and you abandoned her like all the rest." And with that he too stormed off.

"Kili!" Fili called after him, but he thought it best to let his brother calm down, so he sat with the rest in silence.

After the dwarves had moved their belongings into a smaller room, which meant that they would have to share beds, Fili went to see Kili in his isolation.

"Kili." He said as he shut the door. Kili was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows to his knees and he was fiddling with something in his hands. He looked up from this focal point to acknowledge Fili, but he said nothing.

"Brother," Fili sympathetically cooed as he sat next to him, placing his arm around Kili's shoulder. "You've been here for quite a while. Why not come out?"

Kili stubbornly kept his words to himself.

Fili sighed, "Tell me why you are so upset."

Kili's head spun around so quickly that Fili was sure it would spin right off. "You can't be serious."

"Perhaps we should have helped her. Perhaps. But you do know why Thorin did what he did." Once again Kili was silent, "that elf is cousin to King Thranduil." Kili perked up, "It was hard enough getting the thirteen of us together to reclaim Erebor, and as much hate as there is for Thranduil, we are thirteen dwarves, one hobbit and an elf friendly wizard. We're in the Elf King's forest, if word got back to him that the dwarf King's nephew threatened him, it would be us against an army."

Kili hung his head and breathed out quickly like a horse would, He knew that he was letting his emotions run on ahead of his sense, but it's not as if he was trained to do the opposite, that was Fili. While Kili played with toys, his brother learned the ways of the world.

"I know you feel sorry for her, but we can't justify going to war for her, especially not now that we are so close to our goal."

"I love her, Fili."

"Oh Kili," he rubbed his temples and sighed.

"I warn you brother, I'll not let her die." The forcefulness was familiar but not in Kili, and Fili nodded because he doubted any plan that he had would fail. Although, knowing his brother, he didn't have a plan at all.


End file.
